


Ma Cherie, Mon Coeur

by Selenite_Flowers



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Camille Belcourt is a complex character gODDAMNIT, Camille is bi because I say so, Death, F/F, Fluff and Slight Angst, Immortality, Mentions of sex(non-graphic), Spoilers for The Infernal Devices, Temporarily Unrequited Love, This was meant to be a one shot oh well, why Camille is like she is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenite_Flowers/pseuds/Selenite_Flowers
Summary: Evangeline is a young vampire in the city of London in the 1800s whilst tensions are running high between Nephilim and Downworlders after the newly-signed accords are established. Her life becomes complicated after the leader of her clan’s intentions for her are made clear.But Evangeline finds herself more and more enamoured with the stunning Camille Belcourt, even as she watches her court and love men around her.





	1. Cat-Green Eyes

Evangeline looked into her pale reflection. It was odd how used to her poreless skin she had become. It was just something she had adjusted to, like her pale complexion or the spidering veins at her wrists.

She moved her dark hair and hung the labradorite earring she held in her delicate hand, admiring the gemstone before putting the second in. De Quincey had given her them and a matching hairnet because he liked the way they offset the blue of her eyes. The leader of the London Vampire Clan had found himself quite enamoured with her soft spoken nature and beauty, according to the accounts of many gossips.

Like as not she was to believe that, making a good impression and finding oneself in the good graces of a man in power was never a bad move. So she put her hair into the silver, gem-studded net that kept her ebony locks in place. Her blue and black dress matched nicely. Though it still felt odd for her not to have on her silver crucifix, even as she was no longer a fledgling. As she touched the place the necklace had sat she reminisced over prayer and churches.

But immortality was bound to have its downsides.

Tonight was going to be a rather splendid gathering on the part of de Quincey, a dance with the entire clan in attendance. Their clan leader adored decadence, and there was no doubt in Evangeline’s mind this party would be exactly that.

 

Evangeline arrived at the party to find she had been correct. No expense was spared, de Quincey’s halls were lit brilliantly with coloured lights and shining chandeliers(they were rather unnecessary since vampires had no trouble seeing in the dark but a beautiful sight nonetheless.)

The sweet music playing made her feel light and feathery. Cellos, violins, violas, and the occasional trill of a piccolo or flutes. It was soothing, much like the murmuring of conversations, swaying dances, and shimmering coloured lights.

Evangeline found herself striking up conversation with a fellow onlooker and accepting his offer to dance. She felt at ease with the bend and sway of both music and bodies.

“May I cut in?” A familiar voice drawled. She turned her head to find the host himself smiling at her. 

Her partner disentangled from her in an instant. He took a step back and uttered the words “Of course.”

De Quincey’s smile was a knife’s edge and his eyes were glinting daggers at the man. His white-blond hair and dark eyes certainly made for an intimidating sight. Evangeline saw from the corner of her eyes her partner retreating to find someone less wrath-summoning to dance with. De Quincey stepped forward and placed his hand on her waist. In turn she placed her hand upon his shoulder and their other hands intwined.

“I see you’re wearing the jewellery I gave you,” He murmured as he lead her. “I must say that you look wonderful, my dear.”

“You’re too kind, sir.” She would have blushed for effect if she could, though she wasn’t all that affected by the comment. Evangeline knew that de Quincey was a handsome man, but handsome men did not seem to bother her in the way they did most young women. As it were she would just have to put on a diminutive smile and bat her eyelashes.

“Alexei,” He corrected. “We are sufficiently familiar, I think, that I would have you know me by my Christian name, Evangeline.”

Ah. So he did have intentions on her.

“I am flattered, Alexei.” Evangeline ventured another gentle smile.

 

Since he first put his hand on her waist Alexei de Quincey had endeavoured not to break contact with her. Once the dance was done he had taken Evangeline by the arm or ushered her with his hand gently on the small of her back. It would have been innocuous if she hadn’t already known why he was doing it.

She was entirely comfortable simply standing next to him as he conversed with others and occasionally engaging in the conversation herself, when prompted of course. She was introduced, and quietly observed the talking.

Evangeline had become quite accustomed to this when a stunning silver-blonde woman with eyes of emerald green approached. She carried herself in a way that exceeded the natural grace and confidence of most vampires. She, in the bottle green dress, was a woman who knew she drew stares like metal to a magnet and revelled in it. There was something about her that stole Evangeline’s attention like a thief in the night.

“Alexei, darling!” She exclaimed opening her arms wide in a theatrical gesture that made Evangeline immediately recognise she was French. “A splendid party, how gladdened I am that I chose to attend. Though I must confess I had thought not to.”

Evangeline was startled— though she took pains not to express that startlement— that the stunning stranger had the gall to say such a familiar, backhanded compliment. Clearly she had been right about her confidence, though she had not picked up on the clear closeness she and Alexei shared. There was something about her that niggled in the back of her mind. Something she couldn’t quite recognise.

“Camille.” His response was measured but warm. Clearly he held affection for her if not her dramatic tendencies.

Camille’s cat-green eyes flicked to Evangeline, making an assessment and raking her eyes over de Quincey’s hand on her waist. She turned once again to de Quincey. “Alexei, I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to your lady friend.”

If a viper could have smiled, de Quincey had matched it perfectly and Evangeline understood what she had been sensing. Both Camille and Alexei held themselves a certain way, had the same glint in their eye. The mark of a dangerous predator. But where she wanted to shy away from de Quincey like a nervous horse, she was drawn to Camille, like a moth to a flame.

“How rude of me; Camille may I introduce you to Evangeline, Evangeline— Baroness Camille Belcourt.”

“How do you do, my lady?” Evangeline murmured, dipping in a curtsy and flicking her eyes to the floor in a sign of humility.

Soon after the women began to speak, de Quincey rushed off to meet some guest or another. He seemed confident that Evangeline could handle herself with Camille and seemed to think he had dragged her around quite enough that night.

Him leaving bothered Evangeline not in the slightest. She could have talked, and looked into those shining green eyes all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this, it means a lot to me. This is my first work(published, that is) and I’d appreciate feedback.
> 
> Yes, the other chapters are all similarly short and I plan to post them soon(most of them are already written). Originally it was a oneshot and I wrote little individual scenes to be posted all together. But I got writing and decided(after a little persuasion from my friend) that a lot of people who’d read my work would probably skip though a lot or be discouraged by a high wordcount oneshot.
> 
> Thank you once again for reading this, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	2. Grave Dirt and Gilt Steel

Alexei didn’t usually disturb the Grave Dirt of his clan unless something was catastrophically wrong. And when Evangeline pestered him to tell her why he was summoning the clan he ignored her.

She’d hurried down to her room when Alexei had started disturbing Grave Dirt, she was horrendously underdressed and quickly put on a simple dress so she would not have had to meet the clan in her nightgown. Her vampire speed aided her quick preparation. As she dressed and prepared she contemplated her position as the lover of the most powerful vampire in the city of London. It wasn’t odd to her that no matter how involved she became with her ‘lover’ she had never returned his feelings. Neither lust nor love. She’d never held those feelings for any man. But the power she gained from sharing his bed and the endless opportunities to see and converse with Camille were worth whatever lies she fed him, or how many times she lay with him.

Anything was worth the chance to see the way Camille’s smile glittered.

 

By the time she hurried down to the foyer only a few of the clan had appeared. The sun had barely set and it had been unsafe to travel at first.

“Alexei, darling,” Evangeline implored using a tender tone that was entirely put on. “Will you not tell us what matter is so urgent you would summon the clan?”

De Quincey replied, loud enough for all to hear. “There has been a most grievous betrayal of our trust, my love.”

Evangeline was sure that if vampires had needed to breathe there would have been gasps. Immediately there were murmurs of shock and surprise. Even with her increased hearing Evangeline had to strain to catch the whispers of “Traitor” and “Who?” and “What crime”. She herself was dumbfounded.

Alexei raised his hand for silence and then room went quiet. Evangeline was sure that the entire clan was present now. When he began to speak every eye in the room was on him.

“Yes, you have heard correctly, my fellows. We have a traitor amongst our clan.” He spat the word like it were Holy Water. “Or I should say, did. Once their treachery had been uncovered by myself I immediately summoned you all. Greenwood, Hutchinson; bring them forth.”

He named two of his Subjugates, and a shuffling noise of faint struggling and slight stumbling and scrapes immediately filled her ears, as did the hisses of the clan when they saw the traitor. Evangeline smelled blood, and... werewolf.

That was when she noticed the Greenwood and Hutchinson were not ushering the same person. They were escorting two people, a man and a woman; one chained with silver, one with holy metal. The man was practically being dragged, whilst the Moon’s Children healed quickly, walking on a broken leg was not exactly assisting that. The woman was covered in blood and clearly starving. Her locks were so knotted and stained with that blood that part of her blondeness seemed like rubies. There were blisters around both of their wrists.

When the woman looked up, her eyes as black as a shark’s, Evangeline could say that if her heart had still been beating it would have stopped dead.

The woman was Camille.

The noises around Evangeline seemed muffled, and everything stopped at she stared at the bloody, brutalised Camille. She was snapping and pulling at her restraints like an animal. There was no shine to her tonight, just a terrified vulnerability. And Evangeline’s heart tore to shreds, seeing the way Camille looked at the lycanthrope.

Somewhere she was vaguely aware that de Quincey was talking over shouts and with jeers and hisses. The whole clan was filled with animosity.

Somewhere she was vaguely aware of de Quincey’s cries of betrayal.

Somewhere she was vaguely aware of de Quincey hissing “This traitor lay with a Child of the Moon. Knowing our laws, and willingly disobeying them. She along with her pathetic lover will be put to death.”

And only when the silver dagger went into the werewolf’s heart did she tear her eyes away from Camille, lovely Camille, who was sobbing for her dying lover. Her feet carried her to Camille before she even realised she’d moved.

“No!” Evangeline cried, supporting Camille’s— who’s knees had buckled —weight. She shooed Greenwood away and tenderly knelt so as not to hurt her. She sobbed into Evangeline’s shoulder and Evangeline held her in a protective embrace.

“Evangeline, you know our laws. She is to be dusted at dawn,” His voice rang through her skull. “Step away from the traitor.”

Evangeline held her ground. “Mercy,” She begged. “Alexei you have known Camille for so long. I beg of you leniency for her lapse in judgement. Such a dalliance cannot be counted against her, surely. Spare Camille her life, the Moon’s Child is dead and she is humiliated.”

The clan was angrily murmuring and seething. However, none looked more furious than Alexei. He raised his hand and with a flick of his wrist the room was once more doused in silence.

“My dove cries sweetly for the life of a traitor and I find my mercy extended on her behalf.” The look in his eyes was enough to make her shiver though she couldn’t feel the cold.

The room was uproarious, clearly angry. And once more they were quieted in an instant.

“Know this,” de Quincey began. “My forgiveness is given but once. If Camille or any of you,”— He looked around meaningfully —“repeat this dalliance, you will know the full force of my wrath. Leave, all of you.”

 

Evangeline felt relief flood through her and Camille seemed relieved even through her sorrow, she had slowed her crying. The clan was gone in an instant. She took the opportunity to grasp the Holy Metal cuffs, rising blisters on her fingers where they came in contact, and pull them apart so Camille’s burned wrists could heal. Though she would heal soon the white-hot pain in her hands was distracting.

“Get that traitor out of my sight.” De Quincey’s voice was hard as steel but when Evangeline’s gaze met his she didn’t flinch.

Evangeline rose, supporting Camille on her shoulder, and told her in the softest voice she could manage in her rage “We need to do something about all that blood.”

She ordered a subjugate to draw Camille a bath and prepare two rooms.

“Two?” Alexei called.

Evangeline turned her head toward him, cold fury burning within her, “I will not sleep next to a man with such fresh death on his conscience.” With one last pointed look at Camille’s dead lover she gently ushered her to the room her subjugate was preparing.

 

Camille was still heavily shaken but now that she was clean and in fresh garments she was better. Evangeline was sitting with her, an arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. “It hadn’t occurred to me,” She was mumbling. “That death could so tear me asunder, after all these years. I am still but a marionette.”

“I’m not sure I quite comprehend,” Evangeline replied quizzically.

The look in Camille’s green eyes was heartbreakingly vulnerable, and her smile was just as sad. “When you have lived as long as I, dear, you will find that grief, sadness and all sorts of feelings can no longer worm into your heart. They say time turns the immortal into stone.”

Evangeline watched her sitting and lamenting her shattered heart with all the silence of a crypt. Since meeting Camille she had found more and more that ‘gilt steel’ was an apt descriptor for her but now she was not so sure. Not sure at all.

“Well, when you are a statue,” She said. “I will visit every night, planting and maintaining the most gorgeous flowers and trees. Even when we cease to grow ourselves there is still beauty and we may stand and adore it. Perhaps one day, when I too am stone, we can watch the flowers bloom together.”

Camille seemed touched, even through the earthquake that was her loss, the unyielding kindness of Evangeline was a steady ground to stand upon.

“I am so sorry for the loss of... your lover.” Evangeline said, after a moment of silence.

Camille seemed to be rubbed to wrong way once more, as if she had brushed a bruise. “His name was Ralf, Ralf Scott. He was no dalliance.”

Such a dalliance can not be counted against her, surely.

Oh. “Camille, I was begging for your life. You have my sorrow if my words in any way belittled your feelings. The only goal I had was to diminish the clan’s image of your ‘treachery’.” The desperation Evangeline felt as she grasped her friend’s hands and sought her eyes in forgiveness was burning through her like her heartbeat once had.

“I am bone weary,” was all Camille said in way of response, not raising her eyes.

“I will leave you to your rest, then.” Evangeline said, helping Camille under the covers and watching as she closed her eyes and fell into stillness.

Once she was convinced of Camille’s slumber, in softest voice she could muster she murmured “Ma cherie, mon coeur.”

My dear, my heart.


	3. Truth Of Her Heart

The parties weren’t the same for a long time. There was a tension in the clan. The outsiders of the Downworld could sense it. Only after it had been two years since the death of Ralf Scott had the feeling of disquiet eased.

Alexei had been doting on Evangeline as she had grown more distant. He seemed alarmed by the idea that nearly murdering one of his oldest friends _might_ have put her off him and was determined to remedy that.

 

He was busy greeting some guest or another when she managed to slip away. Right now she needed time to breathe... or rather think, it wasn’t that she’d ever quit her position of power or the chances to see Camille(who had incidentally only just started to come to Alexei’s parties again) just for anything. While her anger was righteous it was never the wisest decision to follow rage.

It was then that Evangeline saw her. Evangeline saw her flowing silver locks and ivory skin and ruby red dress. Evangeline saw her glittering eyes and the breath she took in was as sharp as Eros’ arrow piercing her heart although she didn’t breathe. Perhaps she ought to feel underdressed in her simple violet gown. But Evangeline could appreciate Camille’s beauty, in layered silks like rose petals.

And then she saw the man on her arm. He had sleek black hair and caramel brown skin. He was breathing so Evangeline was sure he wasn’t a vampire, his skin wasn’t waxy enough anyway. He was confident in an iridescent blue suit everything about him perfectly contrasted Camille.

Camille and her gentleman friend were weaving through the crowd towards— to Evangeline’s surprise— her.

She would have sighed in resignation if it weren’t entirely rude. Evangeline found that soon enough Camille and her raven-headed friend were rather good at moving quickly and had already made their way to her.

“Evangeline, I have someone to introduce you to.” Camille was smiling and Evangeline’s heart squeezed. “This is Magnus Bane, my lover.”

Evangeline felt as if the world had stopped spinning. She had expected this, she told herself. But the word lover tore something in her apart.

“Magnus, this is Evangeline, Alexei de Quincey’s lady.” Camille finished.

As he reached out his hand for her to shake she realised something odd. In her sorrow for Camille’s loss and for Ralf, she never noticed the coiling snake inside her unbeating heart.

She was jealous.

As she took his hand she saw his eyes were a gold green and had slit pupils like a cat’s.

Ah. So he was a warlock.

“How do you do?” He flashed a smile.

In a split second she was giving her most charming smile, showing all her teeth. Even if it wasn’t genuine in the slightest. “Wonderfully, thank you. Alexei’s been driving himself mad with preparations for tonight but it’s a gorgeous party, so hopefully he’ll calm down now. And you?”

She didn’t really listen to his answer although she was sure it was a polite ‘I’m well’ or something of that ilk. She found her eyes subtly flicking between the two of them. What did Camille see in him?

When her eyes met Magnus’ once more there was a knowing glint in them.

It was as if Magnus had seen into the depths of her soul. Under his gaze she felt green with envy right to her fingertips. She took a moment glance at her hands to assure herself she hadn’t literally turned green.

In that moment they both knew the truth of Evangeline’s heart.

 

She was deeply, truly in love with Camille.


	4. Adieu

When Alexei started draining and murdering mundanes at the Clan Parties for entertainment, Evangeline was disgusted. More than disgusted, she was morally obligated to step in, to say anything to him. So, one night when they were alone, she did.

“Alexei, I beg you to see reason.” Evangeline grabbed at his sleeve, making desperate eye contact with him. She had always dissuaded him in the past from his more reckless ideas, perhaps she would this time.

“I will not be moved on this topic, Evangeline.” There was something in his eyes, some dark timbre in his voice that made her think it was unwise to continue pressing the matter.

“If we are found to have made the slightest infraction of their Laws Shadowhunters will have all the excuse they need to slaughter us!”

“What of our pride, Evangeline?” Alexei was wild, eyes wide, arms flying. “What of our pride?”

“I can swallow mine, yours will get us all killed. Please, stop the murder, it—”

“Murder?” He scoffed, taking a step forward in a manner so as to intimidate her. “They’re mundanes darling, they barely count.”

Her anger unfurled like a whip and she spat. “Have you forgotten that we were mundanes, dear?”

“Perhaps you remember that more clearly than I, but I remember that we are human no longer. What good does it do a cat to think of the life of a mouse?” He stepped forward again, slowly closing the distance, nothing but distaste in his expression.

“When there are no more mice for the cat to hunt.” Evangeline glared up at the taller man, hating his condescending manner of speech.

“We aren’t hunting them to extinction—”

“And what will be the point where Nephilim decide to eradicate us all for the trouble?!” Evangeline was louder, exasperated by his profound lack of understanding the danger his choices put them in.

“If we aren’t caught we won’t be causing the Nephilim trouble!” His voice rose to a shout and Evangeline took a step back. Sometimes she forgot how dangerous a man de Quincey was.

“And what if we are betrayed?” She spoke in but a murmur, trying to bring herself under control once more.

“Is that a threat?” He was quieter now too, but there was something odd in his tone Evangeline couldn’t quite pick out.

“No—”

“I have compromised greatly at your request, Camille owes to you her life. But I will not let them steal from us our very culture, our very survival.” There was a finality in his voice as he leaned toward her, cupping her chin in one hand.

“This is not survival! Subjugates are survival. This is sport! And it will not endear us to the Nephilim, what is to stop all our culture from being spoils?!” She spat her words as though they were venom, but she made no attempt to slap his hand away, for caution’s sake.

“Darling dearest,” his voice was gentle and breathy as he paced his hands on her hips. Evangeline was almost immediately aware of where the argument was taking place. His bedroom. “I am not to be dissuaded on this, perhaps you would not so like to waste your breath on this matter.”

“Your depravity knows no bounds, de Quincey.” Evangeline attempted to move out of his grip but it held fast.

He raised his eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at her. “De Quincey, is it? Choose your next words carefully, dear.”

All of Evangeline’s carefully constructed composure crumbled as if it were made of glass that had been struck. She slapped his hands away and said “Of course it’s de Quincey. You are a lecherous beast of a man who has no conscience or consideration for your actions’ consequences. I despise your little pet names and even the use of my Christian name by you, you foul— horrid, snake.”

He seemed taken aback. “You don’t—”

“What, love you? Even if we had ever, ever had a chance do you think I could love; nay, forgive you after what you did to Camille?!” Everything she had bottled up was spilling out and if she weren’t so angry she would be horrified at her lack of control.

“You...” He trailed off, dumbfounded.

“I used you.” Evangeline said “I wanted power and proximity to Camille because I love her, you blind fool.”

Her face was stinging before she had even realised he’d raised his hand to strike her.

Evangeline turned on her heel, glad the sun had set. She resisted the urge to touch her tingling cheek and said “Adieu, Mr. de Quincey. I will weather your folly no longer, trust you will not see me again.”

Evangeline left the room and called her three subjugates, she set two of them to help her pack for her townhouse, the other she sent off with a note.

~*~*~*~

Camille,  
I am sorrowful that I could not give this to you in person but I must pack posthaste. You see, I am de Quincey’s lady no longer, for I cannot bear his short-sightedness and cruel nature.

To be truthful, my friend, I have long since wished to leave him. Seeing you was the one incentive left, power lost its novelty rather fast. But any time with you; joy of joys, how my heart would sing.

I must advise you to away from me if you wish not to earn de Quincey’s ire. After the incident with your love, Ralf, I hope to see you earn no more suffering at his hands.

I wish you and Magnus every happiness in all your future endeavours.

All my love,

Evangeline


	5. Stand and Adore

Evangeline looked up from her book as she heard a knock on her door. It was raining outside, more than usual for London anyway.

She stood up, waving off her Darklings and answered the door. Standing there, drenched, was Camille in what had to have been a gorgeous sapphire dress before it was ruined by the rain. Evangeline ushered her inside, pretending not to notice the blood welling up in Camille’s shining green eyes.

Evangeline gestured to one of her subjugates to fetch Camille a towel as she ushered her into the sitting room. She told another to fetch tea.

“What’s wrong, Camille?” Evangeline asked.

“You heard of the debacle at de Quincey’s? You know he’s dead?” Camille’s look was scrutinising as she searched for any sense of remorse or grief in Evangeline’s face.

There wasn’t any pity for that man left in her heart. Any embers she may have had left after what he’d done to Camille were wiped out when he had raised his hand to her. “Yes, the Shadowhunters found out about his little party games, your doing?”

Camille, saddened as she was managed a cold grin. “If only I could’ve heard their screams as they went up like kindling. A shapeshifter girl currently living at the Institute pretended to be me and brought a Shadowhunter spy along to observe de Quincey breaking the Covenant Law. The Shadowhunters converged upon them and purged the entire Clan.”

“Shapeshifter... a warlock girl? You are many things, my friend, but a risk taker is not one of them, what made you think she wouldn’t be discovered?” Evangeline asked.

“Her unique ability to gain the thoughts and consciousness of who she shifts into.” Camille replied.

“Beyond the abilities of the Eidolon...” Evangeline said, her awed voice hushed.

“Yes, but the boy she brought with her; William Herondale.” The acidity with which she said his name told Evangeline all she needed to know abut him. The boy was why the love of her eternity had shown up at her doorstep, distressed and in the pouring rain. “He met Magnus on that night, and I imagine they got on rather swimmingly. When I returned this evening to my home I was greeted with Magnus declaring his love for the boy and leaving me.”

Oh. So that was how he knew.

Evangeline didn’t just feel the sorrow for her love and anger at Magnus that she would have expected to feel. A tiny flitter flew through her, like a heartbeat. How selfish, Camille was in such anguish and she couldn’t help but be glad that Magnus had left her.

 

When Evangeline reached out and grasped Camille’s dainty, cold hand Camille met her eyes and for the first time since Ralf Scott’s death she saw the vulnerability and pain within the woman she loved.

But she loved her even more for it. Evangeline thought she might just burst for all the emotion running through her as though pumped by the heart dwelling in her immortal soul rather than her body. She had thought that once someone became a vampire they could no longer have contact with anything holy but this was something far more divine than anything Evangeline had known whilst alive.

Finally Evangeline said, not breaking eye contact “So now, you are here.”

“Now I am here. You are my truest friend, there is no one in the world who...” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I could come to in distress, no one but you who considers me more than just ice. No one who I would rather be with at this moment, than you.”

At that Evangeline knelt by her truest friend, her heart’s greatest wish, her soul’s only desire; she who’s beauty the angels could not hold a candle to.

“You may like to act frozen, but my dear Camille, you are the closest I have ever known a vampire, nay anyone, to the sunrise. Everything you are is bright and brilliant and glorious; and I stand here, adoring.”

Camille’s beautifully green eyes shone. She reached her delicate hand down and cupped Evangeline’s face. She then drew the kneeling woman up, standing herself. She leaned in to her and whispered.

“My dear, my heart.”

Evangeline’s mind cast back to when she had said it, so convinced of Camille’s slumber. She didn’t mind at all, now, that Camille clearly knew of her love, being held in her arms was proof enough of her returning it.

As their lips met Evangeline felt she was more blessed than she felt anyone damned could have ever been and as she reached up she noticed Camille’s face was still damp from the rain.


	6. Ma Cherie, Mon Coeur

Camille sat in the café, waiting for the Daylighter Simon Lewis to arrive. Usually she wouldn’t be out and about in the day, but this was a special exception. Simon Lewis was en exception. Raphael would be sorry when she had the Fledgling by her side.

She took in the chattering white noise of the people and quiet background music around her. The soft indoor lighting set a rather nice mood, though she could do without the sunlight seeping in. It wouldn’t do to blister and burn in a place like this. Her formal black attire was suitable enough though so thoroughly modern she was almost homesick for the time of corsets and bustles. Oh how she missed the dresses and speech of that time.... and Evangeline.

Camille found her image of Evangeline so entrenched with that time that she almost couldn’t imagine what she’d look like now. Almost. The thought of Evangeline in modern clothing was something so contrary and yet so.. fitting. She could practically see Evangeline sitting beside her in a blue sundress and matching pumps.

But then the image rose, as it always did. Evangeline choking on Holy Water in her arms. Burnt from the rays of emerging sunlight. She had died protecting her Subjugate turned Fledgling from the Shadowhunters.

Asunder was she, shredded from the death of yet another love. She’d gone wild for quite a while. Evangeline, while drowning in her own blood had spent the time assuring Camille she would be alright, it was okay, she loved her. Sweet Evangeline, kind, devoted, loyal to a fault Evangeline. When her love had stilled; for good this time Camille tried to beg her lifeless body to come back to her not to leave her. Please, she’d pleaded, I need you; I love you.

But Evangeline had stayed dead. Camille had stayed alone. But Camille had not forgotten, if anyone had been the true equal of her, the second of her soul, it was Evangeline.

Before bloody tears could well up in her eyes she pulled out a pair of labradorite earrings, feeling the pleasant fantasy that her love was still beside her stir once more. Imagining how much she would have loved the city whilst staring at the earrings pulled so hard on her heartstrings it nearly tore them.

The tragedy that she must live in a world without such beauty. They had been too full of love and grace to fade rather than burn out in as bright a flash as possible. Ralf and Evangeline both.

Camille brought the earrings she had kept all those years to her lips and whispered “Ma cherie, mon coeur.”

She looked up, placing the earrings back in her pocket and saw Archer and Walker had entered with Simon Lewis


End file.
